


Jealous (of myself)

by SilverBlue



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: F/M, I Don't Even Know, Porn Without Plot, Pre-Localised Names
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-10
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-08-20 14:55:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8253158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverBlue/pseuds/SilverBlue
Summary: He thought he was being smart. It turns out he wasn't.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this happened? I'm (sort of) sorry.

Saizou hated himself. He hated that he had gotten himself into this mess and he hated that guilt gripped him so tightly.  
  
Part of the guilt was as Saizou the fifth, for the mere thought of wanting to put his wife before his Lord. The average person wouldn’t find it difficult to put family first, but it had been hammered into him for half his life that his very existence was to protect his liege, and the rest of his life up till now had been spent hammering this fact into everyone else. Nothing should change because he was married.  
  
Part of the guilt was as Saizou the husband for not spending nearly as much time as he should with his wife. They had barely spoken recently, and if they did their conversations centred around battles and tactics. Inside the home, one (often Kamui) would usually be fast asleep and by the time the other settled in bed they were knocked out cold.  
  
His mind conflicted daily between retainer and husband. If someone had told him that there would come a day where he would be reconsidering his priorities, he would have scoffed in their face. After watching Kamui, and getting to know her, and finally getting together with her, he learnt the true meaning of making compromises – a skill he never thought would be necessary so never bothered to hone.  
  
The final part of the guilt, as Saizou the man, weighed on him the heaviest. Lord Ryouma requested a report on the new recruits Saizou and Kagerou were currently training. Saizou could have asked his Lord to shorten the meeting, or to even postpone it; his Lord would have understood and be willing to do anything for his sister and brother-in-law (Saizou blushed at that thought – the idea of being within his Lord’s family circle was still too much). But no, it would be an insult to the name of Saizou to put anything before his Lord.  
  
… But he had made a promise to Kamui that nothing would prevent him from being home early that evening. She had laughed, saying he needn’t make such promises (probably because she knew something would hinder him) (and damn it, she was right) but for some reason her words grated him more and his stubbornness made him declare that he would be the first to arrive home, waiting for her return.  
  
He didn’t want to break that promise. He didn’t want her to think she wasn’t as important to him as his work, no matter how much she understood.  
  
So he quickly managed to go home and make arrangements. He knew the report wouldn’t take long, his Lord had plans in the evening to dine with the crown prince of Nohr. He just needed a small ruse, enough to fool Kamui for a short time.  
  
All was going according to plan. They had given their report. They had been dismissed. They could go retire for the day.  
  
That was until Kagerou cornered him in the darkened corridor after the two excused themselves.  
  
“The new recruits,” she said. “We need to decide on how to manage them for the next mission.”  
  
Oh, how he would much rather be back home with Kamui in his arms (or him in hers, which sometimes happened over the night; he found it embarrassing but it was also a secret indulgence.)   
  
“Can’t it wait?”  
  
“Are you suggesting that with one day left to train, we spend it arguing over tactics instead of having a plan ready?”  
  
Quarrelling on this matter would only prolong his return. He ran his hand through his hair. “Your thoughts then.”  
  
That was one show of affection he also secretly enjoyed, one his pride wouldn’t allow him to ever simply ask – Kamui running her hand through his hair. One day, out of plain curiosity, he had pretended to be asleep when she returned so as to note her reaction. He assumed she would try to wake him when she sat down on the edge of the bed, but was surprised when her fingers stroked his hair in a slow rhythm, which he found soothing. He barely registered her stopping, the slow motion nearly lulling him to sleep, and was just conscious enough to feel her whole warmth lie beside him before her arm was wrapped around him and the stroking resumed. He vaguely remembered burying his face into her neck before succumbing completely.  
  
He shouldn’t be thinking these things, he should be concentrating. Saizou adjusted his mask. His scarf was feeling uncomfortable for some reason, tickling his face and feeling tight around his neck and shoulder. He tugged at it while Kagerou spoke.  
  
“… Saizou.”   
  
“What?” He tried straightening the creases instead. Maybe he needed a new scarf.  
  
“You’re … _fidgeting_.”  
  
“Must be this _scarf_.” Saizou gave the material a final tug but it felt worse. Had it shrunk?  
  
“Well, stop. It’s unnerving to see you so restless.”  
  
Saizou dropped his arm. What was unnerving was Kagerou’s comment. Why was he behaving this way? These unusual … _sensations_ , what was causing them?  
  
Saizou barked out a laugh when the sensation stroked his chest.  
  
The two ninjas froze, staring at each other. Had that sound really come out of his mouth?  
  
Kagerou looked torn between several responses.  
  
“Was what I said amusing?” She asked in a strained voice, settling on being professional.  
  
“Apologies.” Saizou bowed his head. “I don’t know what came over me.”  
  
Kagerou looked at him suspiciously then started talking again.  
  
What had just happened? All of a sudden it felt as though a brush swept along his chest  (where he was most sensitive).   
  
_Inexplicable_.   
  
He felt it again, across his ribs this time, and he covered the laugh with a cough that earned a raised eyebrow but his partner continued to speak.   
  
_No_ , he thought in horror. There was but one explanation.  
  
*  
  
When Kamui arrived home, she was greeted with the sight of her husband sleeping on the bed. She smiled and, as always when she found such a scene before her, closed the door quietly and stalked to the bed. It never failed to amuse or warm her to catch him looking so peaceful, the crease between his brows ironed out and his features softer, unguarded. She did as she was now accustomed to doing – threading her fingers through his hair and gently stroking the flames.  
  
They had spent so many days apart and busy without a time for themselves that they promised they would spend the evening together. She had been looking forward to coming home, the one thing that keep her grounded amongst the flurry of activity.   
  
The fact that he hadn’t yet stirred was a clear indication of ultimate fatigue. There had only been a couple of instances since coming together where she had seen him so deep in slumber (and several instances more where she knew he was awake, the tell being that his frown was still visible) (she decided to keep this bit of information to herself). He never showed his tiredness though, always pushing on through missions, his guard impenetrable, or barking orders at younger recruits. Kamui’s own brows furrowed, wondering just how close he was to his limit.  
  
She felt a little guilty in forcing her husband awake but they both needed to spend time with each other awake, having actual conversations and … well, they could always retire to bed later. Besides, she had prepared a meal – the reason for her small delay – which she knew would also uplift his spirits.  
  
If she could wake him that is. More intense measures were needed. She cupped his face and thumbed his cheek, and when he still didn’t rise, gently shook his shoulder.  
  
Nothing.   
  
“Saizou?” She asked, shaking him harder. “Saizou!”  
  
What could be wrong with him? Was he ill? Subjected to a spell? She felt his face, his hands, his body, all warm and with signs of life. Should she call Elise? Sakura? Or maybe Suzukaze? Yes, as his brother and fellow ninja, Suzukaze was the right person to ask.  
  
She opened the door and called his name, knowing he wouldn’t be far quite yet. A few moments and he appeared in front of her.  
  
“Is something the matter?” He asked, his gentle voice soothing over half of her concerns before she even started.  
  
“Suzukaze, I’m sorry for calling on you like this, but it’s Saizou. He’s not waking.”  
  
She could see Suzukaze’s eyes widen slightly and she let him through so he could see what was wrong with his twin. They approached the bed, standing over the still ninja.  
  
“… Ah.”  
  
“What is it? Is he meditating? Is it some kind of ninja technique?”  
  
Suzukaze turned to her with what looked like an exasperated smile. “Would you mind sharing his plans for this evening?”  
  
“We had agreed to a quiet evening together,” Kamui said. “I thought I would surprise him with dinner so arrived slightly late to find him asleep. Then when I tried to wake him …” She was still a little worried but if Suzukaze was smiling then it couldn’t have been serious.  
  
Her retainer nodded and encouraged her for more information. “Did he mention anything?”  
  
Kamui thought back, wondering what Suzukaze might have meant. “Well, I suppose he was insistent on being home before I returned.”  
  
Suzukaze snorted quietly. “I see.”  
  
“Is he alright?”  
  
“… You were correct in thinking it to be a ninja technique.”  
  
“Meaning?”  
  
He breathed out a long sigh. “I’m afraid he has tried to deceive you.”  
  
*  
  
There was a soft brush against his right nipple, and Saizou bit the inside of his bottom lip to stop himself from making a noise, hard enough to taste a flow of iron.  
  
Kamui (it could only be Kamui) was on his lips licking and sucking at the fresh wound that would have appeared on his replica.  
  
He couldn’t carry on like this, not if—  
  
_Oh gods_. Nails, teeth, _something_ pinched at his right nipple, again and again, then started on his left. He had never been more grateful for the cover of shadows, because his clothes were starting to feel restrictive and it wouldn’t be long before he was completely hard.  
  
The teasing stopped. He prayed that would be the end of Kamui’s relentless attack.  
  
It wasn’t. The sensations resumed, this time a continual circular motion that must have been her tongue.  
  
“—What say you, Saizou?”  
  
His eye snapped up. Not one word had registered. He wasn’t even sure what they were talking about any more.  
  
Better to take a risk than reveal his inattentiveness. “I … agree.”  
  
“You agree?” Kagerou said, disbelieving.  
  
Was that not the correct response? No, the best way was to be his usual self and use his precious years training to ignore the playful nips and swirls on his chest.  
  
“That’s what I said!”  
  
Kagerou looked slightly taken aback at the sharp response, but quickly returned to her neutral state.  
  
“I didn’t think you would fold so quickly. You never agree to my ideas without a fight.”  
  
Kamui’s tongue was trailing down, down the centre of his chest, his stomach and – he swallowed, knowing where she was headed.  
  
“It’s time we became more amenable.” He blurted out the words before inch by slow inch, a stripe of heat made its way from the base of his solid length to the tip making him forget how to breathe. He felt his right eye flutter and squeezed it shut.  
  
Kagerou’s eyes were hard; it was clear she was trying to decipher her partner’s unusual actions. Saizou was doing his utmost to hold back the chokes by clearing his throat as he felt the heat lazily come and go. He crossed his arms and dug his nails hard enough to leave marks on his skin through the material, desperate for a distraction.  
  
The heat that wrapped around him felt loose, and he imagined Kamui’s mouth on him (his replica!) lapping up the leaking juices and toying with the head.  
  
The sensation abruptly stopped, (disappointment) _relief_ washing over him. He swore he would never, _ever_ use his replica for this sort of deception again. He should have known better than to underestimate her smarts, and was a fool for even trying.  
  
“Is that sorted then?”  
  
“I’m not sure you’re being serious about this, Saizou.”  
  
“You should be glad I’m accepting your proposal,” he snapped. “If I agree you’re dissatisfied, if I disagree you’re dissatisfied!”  
  
Kagerou stared at him and bowed her head. “Apologies. I appreciate you willing to bend your ways. Perhaps marriage has made you more accommodating to others’ point of view.”  
  
Touches that must have been fingertips were all the warning he received before his length was engulfed in tightness that could only be Kamui making her descent, and he cried out softly.  
  
“Saizou, are you alright?” Kagerou asked, stepping towards him.  
  
“I … I’m not … feeling myself.” Saizou said between shaky breaths. “If that’s everything … I-I’ll be leaving.”   
  
He disappeared.  
  
He lacked the concentration to disappear far, just making it a few feet outside of the building. No matter, he would run the rest of the way.  
  
… Running was too much; he could only do something that was a cross between a limp and a jog.   
  
He paused to lean against a tree, bending over at the invisible sensation rubbing him up and down sending strong jolts of pleasure. Whatever happened to his replica, happened to him. When he was hit in battle the wound would appear on his person. When his cock was being ridden … the pleasure was almost becoming too painful to endure.  
  
He was close. He gritted his teeth and made another attempt to sprint home.   
  
He rushed up the steps and flung open the door.  
  
It was a strange sight, almost dream-like, watching Kamui on top of him, as though he had become a spirit with temporary leave of its body. But he was standing here, very real and very hard, and Kamui was raising and lowering her hips on his other self, with her in her under layer of clothing and his replica’s clothes dishevelled and pulled apart.  
  
She came to a stop when she noticed someone at the door, and with the realisation it was her husband, grinned and rolled her hips once. Saizou couldn’t help closing his eyes as her movement rubbed him in just the right way.  
  
“Finally.”  
  
He slammed the door shut and tugged his mask and scarf off his face. It took three steps to stride up to the bed and press his lips hard onto hers. “I received your message. You don’t need … _him_.”  
  
His replica disappeared, leaving them both groaning at the sudden loss of sensation. He sat on the bed and pulled Kamui onto him so that she could straddle his hips instead. It took some fumbling on his part to loosen his clothes but she was finally lowering herself onto him, the substitute no match for physical touch or warmth.  
  
“Kamui …” Saizou muttered, his hands reaching for her soft body. He wouldn’t last long. Even though he was still bitter towards his replica, he couldn’t deny the earlier sight drove his lust and brought him closer to the edge. “Tell me, who’s better?”  
  
“Oh, Saizou,” she managed a laugh between breaths. “You’re not comparing yourself are you?”  
  
“You seemed to be … having fun without me. What do you expect?”   
  
Kamui moaned when Saizou pushed his hips up sharply to make a point.  
  
“Perhaps I was,” she leaned into his ear, her mouth ghosting over his lobe to send sparks through his spine. “Perhaps I could get used to your replica …”  
  
Saizou growled, his fingertips gripping her tight.  
  
“Don’t joke …” his body was burning, pleasure twisting the nerves low in his gut. He clutched onto Kamui, his lifeline, while his lips travelled across the nape of her neck, sucking at her flesh as his left hand worked her breast. “Kamui …”  
  
“Saizou …!” She shuddered under him, the first to release their tightening energy, and the sudden pressure around his length was enough to push him over. Each thrust was made with force, but gradually drawing apart, until he was utterly spent. He felt Kamui kiss the top of his head and he pressed his face to her chest, breathing hard, and breathing in her scent.  
  
Saizou fell onto his back, pulling Kamui down with him, his softening length slipping out of her. Her body draped over him and he took comfort in her weight.   
  
“I was wrong to leave the replica.” Saizou started. “I’ll not do it again.”  
  
“Oh, I don’t know.” She smiled up at him, hazy from their workout but not without a hint of slyness. “There’s so much potential for other you.”  
  
Images he never dared think now freely invaded his mind with this permission. His cock, even though exhausted, had enough energy to twitch in interest. He closed his eyes tight to block those images. What would others think if he used his skills for pleasure? He was ashamed of even considering the notion.  
  
_But no one would know_ , a darker, aroused part of him whispered.  
  
He rolled them both over and was on her immediately, pushing her down into the sheets, watching her blink up at him curiously. How must he have looked? Predatory, maybe. Hungry. Dangerous.  
  
“You might regret your suggestion,” he warned, half hoping – yet not – that she would take back the suggestion.  
  
“You might not,” she challenged.   
  
He searched her features – unafraid and determined, like she usually looked before battle – and chuckled. “What have I gotten myself into? Just …” Saizou looked away. “Let me be the one to …”  
  
He heard Kamui’s soft laughter and glared back at her, with both eyes. She stifled her laughs at least, but his threat wasn’t enough to rid her of her good humour.  
  
She threaded her fingers through his hair.  
  
“Alright, my jealous ninja. Only you.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The long-awaited (?) continuation. I have to confess, this was sitting in my phone/computer, almost complete, since last year.

Saizou feared Kamui would think him lacking after the revelation of the replica’s use extending beyond the battlefield, but that one-night stand did nothing to diminish the pleasure of their continued love making. Now though, on a rare evening of uninterrupted peace surrounded in comfortable silence and speckled with chaste touches and kisses, Saizou’s mind decided it to be the perfect time to revisit the memory and ponder over more of its uses in the bedroom.  
  
“What’s wrong?”  
  
Saizou focused his attention onto Kamui staring as she lay beside him in a loosely tied yukata (a faded crimson patterned with white flowers which he thought fetching) and he realised their kissing had stopped. Or more accurately, Kamui had stopped the kissing; Saizou was all in favour of it being continued.  
  
She rolled over to straddle him so she could survey him better – and so he wouldn’t try and escape from answering.  
  
He frowned. “Wrong? Nothing’s wrong.”  
  
Kamui pinned him with her large, thoughtful eyes, working on solving the puzzle.  
  
“You don’t like what we’re doing?” she asked.  
  
“No. I mean – that’s not—” Saizou sighed. “Sorry. I was distracted.”  
  
She raised her eyebrows. “Distracted?”  
  
He knew how he sounded. Kamui was in a position where he could easily touch her in all the places she enjoyed being touched, which would make her want to start touching him in all the places he enjoyed being touched – and here he was, _distracted_. So distracted in fact that he couldn’t even provide a smooth response of ‘distracted by your beauty’ or something similar to throw her off.  
  
“Does it involve your replica?” She nudged him into answering.  
  
His reply was to pull away his gaze. Saizou wondered how she always seemed to hit the mark when trying to decipher his moods.   
  
“Do you want to try it again?”  
  
A blush ignited his cheeks – how could she be so straightforward with her questions without anything remotely related to shame?!  
  
He glanced back in silent interest.  
  
Her awaiting smile was one reserved solely for him – loving, comforting, encouraging. He was a grown man – he was _Saizou the fifth_ , a fearsome ninja and latest successor of a revered legacy – he certainly didn’t need _coddling_.  
  
He was also a husband whose defences crumbled under the patient gaze of his wife.  
  
“ _I_ want to try it again,” she coaxed. She already knew her answer; he had difficulty keeping emotions off his face. Sometimes he wished his mask were a permanent fixture.  
  
As if to read his thoughts, Kamui dropped a soft kiss on his lips to remind him of what he would be missing.  
  
He propped himself up off the bed and stared into her eyes, the light more animatedly playing off the ruby than his own blood red. With a defeated sigh Saizou conjured up his double, the bed sinking lower with the additional weight. Kamui turned to find the other version of Saizou kneeling at the end of the bed.  
  
He glared at the figure.  
  
Kamui looked from Saizou, to the replica, back to Saizou, and a few times more. He tried not to look at himself; it wasn’t the same as looking into a mirror. When his replica moved in battle, it was acknowledged as a tool. In the bedroom, it felt a menace intruding on the intimacy shared between him and his love.  
  
Kamui pushed herself off him to examine his other self.  
  
His pulse throbbed under his skin. He was almost tempted to make it disappear so she would redirect her interest back at him.  
  
“Close your eyes,” she said, a request than order.  
  
Maybe her ability to read his thoughts had been sharpened too well.  
  
(He did as he was told anyway.)  
  
The bed squeaked under her shifting weight and he felt a stripe across one of the more recent scars to his side. The touch was amplified when he didn’t know where it was coming from.  
  
“What does it feel like?” He could hear the curiosity in her voice as she began experimenting.  
  
“A ghost,” he said levelly.  
  
He felt another touch on a deep mark over his bicep, a permanent lesson of his reckless arrogance during his first fight.  
  
Saizou opened his eye to watch Kamui and her observing his replica’s now-topless body, hand hovering at the ready as she wondered which selection of scars to stroke next.   
  
“How does it work?” she asked, brushing an old training wound courtesy of his brother. “Replicate.”  
  
A great deal of concentration and energy, depending on how much of himself he wanted to replicate. The use of this skill during battle drained him after he was done, mainly because he needed the replica to move out of its own accord. That meant sharing a part of what could only be described as spirit, so that the replica could make its own decisions, or follow orders, and fight. It involved plenty of risk because he was essentially handing over his life into the hands of an automated body, which, while it had the same level of experience and was able to determine its allies and foes, could not have the full thinking or emotional capacity of himself.   
  
Not to mention the peril of placing too much spirit. There had never been a solid account, at least none he was aware, but a warning of its occurrence had been issued all the same.  
  
Simple acts of it sitting right now (or sleeping, like the other day) involving little to no movement meant the replica was almost void of spirit, and this technique was mostly used for distraction. It made him slightly sluggish afterwards, but nothing more than the effects of, say, having a small drink.  
  
“With focus,” he summarised.  
  
She reached to touch the scar across his eye and he shivered. He no longer tensed when she touched him there physically, but it put him on edge when done to his replica.  
  
Kamui sensed his sudden movement and turned.  
  
“Hey, I told you to close your eyes.” He couldn’t stop the smirk from appearing at her mock irritation. She looked around as if in search of something, then reached to grab his scarf that was draped over the chair.  
  
“What are you plotting?”  
  
Kamui came over to kneel before him, holding the scarf out level with his eyes as if to wrap it around – but stopped. He understood she was asking his permission and he gave a small nod for her to place the scarf over his eyes and tie a knot behind his head, blocking out all light.  
  
Just like at night. He would have to use his other senses to picture what was happening. Her fingers were on him now, trailing down an especially long gash from his chest to gut. Another shiver ran through his body.  
  
“You can take it off if it’s hard to bear.”  
  
Sometimes he imagined what life would be like without his sight. In the beginning, the very thought scared him, one of the few things that ever did, because what meaning did his life have if he was unable to serve? In time he accepted that should fate be unkind as to steal his other sight, he would find a way to continue on, as he always did.  
  
Kamui tugging his obi loose and peeling off his yukata so he was exposed drew him out of his bleak thoughts. No point wasting time on what ifs when Kamui’s touches were enticing him to enjoy the present.  
  
She brushed her fingers up and down his length, which automatically twitched at the attention, and continued for a good few minutes. She was teasing – or stalling.  
  
“I want to try something,” she finally said.  
  
“Aren’t we already?”  
  
His body jerked reflexively at the light tap on his cock and he gripped the sheets.  
  
He tried not to acknowledge the sudden pluck of pleasure.  
  
“I have here a lotion.” There was a waver to her voice, one that contained apprehension but also a degree of excitement. They were familiar with lotions but as she was never so keen, he guessed she wasn’t talking about the one they normally used.  
  
“The lotion,” Kamui continued, “has the ability to ... prolong pleasure.”  
  
“You want to use it?” he asked, his voice a coarse growl.  
  
“I want to use it … on you. Though I suppose I’ll feel some of its effects,” she added thoughtfully.  
  
He wasn’t against the idea. How it would bring him pleasure, he couldn’t imagine.  
  
“It’s safe?”  
  
“Oh yes.”  
  
Whether her eager affirmation meant she had tested it on herself, he refrained from asking.  
  
“Then we’ll try it.”  
  
There was a scraping sound of a lid opening and then of it closing; he momentarily tried to guess its hiding place considering it was within her reach. Time stretched out after that, making him wonder if Kamui was beginning to have regrets. He was about to tell her to stop if she was uncomfortable when he felt his obvious arousal being coated in lotion. The amount she used was smaller than usual and it didn’t make the whole of his length slick, rather, it was similar to rubbing oil onto skin, like moisturiser.  
  
“How does it feel?”  
  
“Not any different,” he assessed after moments passed.  
  
“Shall we ... test it out a bit?”  
  
She clambered on top of him, clamping his body between her knees.  
  
“Wait.”  
  
Kamui paused, hovering over him, hips unlowered. His right hand correctly found her breast, thumb grazing over her nipple, and then traced her curves, following the line of her body to her front until his hand slipped between her open legs to find her already slickened. He fingered her lightly.  
  
“Clearly I’m not needed to help you prepare.”  
  
Her hair tickled his neck and chest, her breath his ear. “It’s all your doing, I promise.”  
  
He teased her, just barely dipping a finger in and out between the folds. It earned him a pleased murmur that shot straight to his groin.  
  
His finger slid over to the sensitive bud and made languid circles. He couldn’t help it, he loved having her writhe.  
  
“Are you done playing?”  
  
He reluctantly withdrew his hand. “No. But I’ll let you have your turn.”  
  
Her lips pressed onto his and she sucked on his bottom lip as she lowered herself down onto him. The sensation always felt new; he could never tire of this.  
  
She buried herself fully with a soft moan then stilled, taking time to adjust. Relinquishing all control Saizou waited until tentatively she began to move. His hands outlined her figure to her hips and rested his hold there.  
  
The blindfold was a surprising addition; he thought he would resent not being able to see, and while he did miss the scene of Kamui working herself up to pleasure, the thrill of the unknown helped stimulate in a perverse sort of way.  
  
Only – it was strange. He was becoming more aroused, yet just as quickly the arousal was dissolving.  
  
“Is it working?”  
  
It must be. It was almost as though the lotion was absorbing the build-up – no matter how much he tried to change the pace or strength of his thrusts, the lotion inhibited any escalation.  
  
“It is, but—” it was beginning to frustrate him. It resembled the way his body started to burn when readying to unleash the blaze within, except currently there was no means of release to the swelling heat.  
  
“Kamui, how long ...” He swallowed; he was having trouble stringing words together. “How long will it last?”   
  
“I’m not sure ... but the amount was recommended.”  
  
Her vague answer only made him more frustrated.  
  
“You know I said this was a test ...” he heard her say, a rush of cool air hitting his hardness as she pulled off him. He let out what could only be called a pathetic cry. While it was torture being in limbo, at least he was on his way to release. Without her, it was back to square one. He reached out to grasp air.  
  
“Kamui,” he pleaded, a whimper that would usually have him deeply ashamed or reproachful, but his untouched self didn’t know the meaning of the sexual torture that was to be suspended in this throbbing state of suppression.  
  
She took his hand and he took advantage, tugging her forward so her weight fell onto him.   
  
“Kamui,” he moaned, grasping and kneading her body, grinding up to her in plea.  
  
“In a moment,” she promised, humour in her voice. “But first I want you to get on your knees.”  
  
“You’re making me beg?!” Her request was absurd enough to temporarily distract him from his aching need.  
  
She laughed. “Not unless you want me to. No, I was thinking you could ... from behind.”  
  
It wasn’t the first time they tried the position, but he felt it wasn’t appreciated often enough. Grudgingly he loosened his hold so she could slip away and he could comply with her instruction while bearing the torturous wait.  
  
She took his hand again and placed it on her hip so he could find his way. He shuffled closer, using both hands to massage her skin, tracing her curves, feeling the heat radiate from her body and seep through his fingertips. Taking his hard cock he relied on his memory to position himself behind, then feigned ignorance, letting his free hand wander over the soaked lips, spreading her juices with easy strokes.  
  
“You’re playing again,” he heard her voice directed at him. He released an amused huff and brought himself forward so his tip touched her entrance before sinking in with a moan of relief.  
  
“Saizou ...” she called his name as he pushed himself fully into the earlier pleasure; now that he had control, there was no holding back.  
  
He was there again, the gradual build-up of heat until it hit the earlier cap that prevented its rise.  
  
“Kamui, I don’t know if – if I can take much more of this.” He knew he had stamina but this was unknown territory; he had never been tested this way.  
  
“Let me help,” she said.  
  
_How?_ That was when the heat around his cock magnified and he groaned at what felt like her tongue on him.  
  
But how was that—  
  
“The replica,” he breathed. Being in the dark he had forgotten its presence, and in reply to his realisation Kamui sucked hard enough to send a jolt through his body.  
  
Sure enough, the earlier limit was released. At least he would no longer be stuck; he was finally able to climb – however excruciatingly slow – to his release.  
  
Tight heat licked his length and leisurely tongued the head, and with every hard suck Saizou faltered.  
  
He pulled the scarf off his head and threw it aside. Kamui was leaning over the replica still sitting at the end of the bed, skin around its face and neck – even down to his chest – brightly reddened. He hadn’t noticed its expression in the rush last time, but now he could note the obvious signs of pleasure – closed eyes, parted lips, heaving chest, and instinctive roll of hips to meet the wet heat. The sight suddenly knocked the breath out of him and, with a grip and twist of the building pressure, directed him to a new form of pleasure; he quickly looked away and down to Kamui.  
  
He couldn’t see her working her mouth, but the suggestiveness – and the sensations he felt from the result – triggered him to drive into her, punching his whole weight behind each thrust to be rewarded with staccatoed vibrations around his cock. Receiving twice the attention was almost on the verge of too much – yet nowhere near enough.  
  
“Saizou … I n-need—” His name pulled him to reality. He could feel Kamui’s pants of breath, her lips occasionally brushing the tender flesh. “Touch me … please …”  
  
Lost in his own bliss he had been neglecting her needs. Saizou reached round, fumbling to sfind her folds again, his earlier measured strokes now a haphazard rub at the cluster of nerves that would send pleasure rippling through her. Her moans grew louder, more drawn out, and he felt his length being gripped as her desperation increased, attention shifting between invisible fingers working alongside her tongue over the ridges, and a ghost cupping and massaging his tight balls. His nails sank into her skin, the sound of skin slapping skin becoming wilder.  
  
His release was within reach, as long as he pushed himself into her, as long as her mouth was on him—  
  
“Saizou, I can’t—” He felt the muscles engulfing him contract and she cried out his name, her body trembling beneath him.  
  
His pounding reached an unforgiving pace as he grit his teeth, wanting to wring Kamui of everything until she was limp with satisfaction, and being infuriated that he was so close – _so close_ – only to be left hanging right at the edge of pleasure. The excruciation was almost humorous.  
  
Just then, the heat from Kamui’s mouth returned, swallowing him down whole.  
  
“ _K-Kamui_ — _!_ ”  
  
He tightened his hold on Kamui, locking her to him as intense pleasure ripped through his shuddering body, shots of heat shattering his confines as he drove himself deep with every thrust, as deeply as he could force, using her body, her whimpers, to squeeze out every last drop of ecstasy.  
  
Sensitivity started to take over and his thrusts weakened to a gradual halt. He half-slumped onto Kamui, muscles slackened, only his chest working overtime to push air into his lungs.  
  
Saizou opened his eye.  
  
He finally noticed Kamui leaning forward and coughing. Quickly he pulled out of her and knelt by her side, one hand on her back making soothing circles. She looked up at him.  
  
Saizou’s brain shut down at the sight of her ravished, evidence of his release dripping from her mouth and down her chin.  
  
He shook himself out of the daze and grabbed his scarf to gently wipe her face.  
  
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t control myself—”  
  
“It’s okay,” she stopped him, satisfaction and exhaustion visible in her smile, and she covered his hand with hers. “I kind of liked it.”  
  
Saizou laughed uncertainly, wiping off the last of what the scarf could and drew closer to press his lips against hers. Kamui immediately opened her mouth to invite him in, their kiss sloppy and lazy and tasting of musk.  
  
When they parted, Saizou continued to spread kisses up her neck.  
  
“Are you less distracted now?”  
  
“More distracted … by you.”  
  
He grinned to himself and nipped at her ear. “Let’s rent out the onsen,” he murmured. He intended to suggest cleaning up, but – still feeling loosely aroused – a slow round in the warm waters sounded like a perfect finish to their evening. Whether or not Kamui knew, he felt her nod against his face and with a final kiss to her neck, pulled away to start getting dressed.  
  
Saizou went to reach for his yukata, glancing at his replica with its skin still flushed. Maybe he didn’t need to be so hostile towards it, he thought, as he dismissed it from duty.

Never did it cross his mind in those days after their first meeting that the princess who had been imprisoned to her room would be harbouring secret desires for—  
  
“Kamui. How did you come up with this idea?”  
  
“Hm?” Kamui was pulling on her own yukata. A blush spread across her cheeks. “Oh, you know. Mulling.”  
  
Saizou watched her wrap and tie the obi. He was thinking of saying something further but Kamui took his arm in hers and threaded their fingers together.  
  
“Shall we?”  
  
He decided it didn’t matter, and with another nod, let her lead the way.  


 

* * *

  
The following morning, even clunks of heels could be heard from beyond the corner as Saizou made his way down the corridor.  
  
“Princess Camilla,” he stopped and addressed with a bow when she appeared.  
  
“Oh, Saizou dear, I’m glad to see you. Join me for a moment, will you?”  
  
“Of course.” Saizou redirected his steps so he could walk by her side.  
  
“I believe you were advised on your use of titles?”  
  
It was a force of habit to attach titles to royalty, and he was still overwhelmed by the fact that he was related to them all, struggling to adapt to his status of being included inside the family circle.  
  
“My apologies.” When her gaze didn’t leave his face, he reluctantly added, “… Camilla.”  
  
She began the main point of their conversation with a smile. “I hope you’re treating our Kamui well.”  
  
_Our_ Kamui. At least she accepted their marriage now; in the beginning after they announced their engagement it was a constantly pronounced ‘ _my_ Kamui’ and he had to remind himself of his position so he wouldn’t speak out of place. He suspected the change was down to Kamui having a quiet and persuasive word with her sister.  
  
Camilla had various smiles. A smile for ‘their’ Kamui. A smile for her retainers.  
  
A smile for enemies. A smile for death.  
  
Her current smile had an undertone of ‘if, for any reason, you are not, I will personally see to it that you feel a blunt edge steadily serrate your neck, but not before my dragon has acquired a taste for your organs.’  
  
He was a master of many things, reading other people’s death threats being one of them.  
  
“I love her with my whole being,” he said with utmost seriousness. “It would never cross my mind to treat her otherwise.”  
  
Camilla’s smile brightened and the threat disappeared (the resentment remained a little.)  
  
“It’s so reassuring Kamui picked you as her husband. I was concerned at first – your character didn’t seem to suggest you would be able to satisfy my darling sister’s needs, but it seems I was quite mistaken.” Her voice was rich, _like dark chocolat_ e, he thought, which explained why it appealed to most but personally made him queasy. “You’re much more than meets the eye.”  
  
“Thank you …?” Saizou felt out of step, like he was missing the main point of her words.  
  
“Who would ever have suspected what lay under the stoic, duty-driven front we’re so used to seeing.”  
  
Cold sweat broke out. There was something _very_ wrong with this conversation.   
  
He cleared his throat. “I lack the ability to keep pace with your thoughts, milady. Would you mind clarifying?”  
  
Camilla laughed again. “Saizou dear, you’re not really going to make me say it out loud are you?”  
  
Was he unreasonable in thinking she somehow knew what he and Kamui did behind closed doors? Kamui was very close to her sisters, but surely they didn’t spend their time talking about ... no, Kamui’s discomfort was always visible when her older sister lavished her with attention, a conversation on sexual activities would barely gain momentum.  
  
“No, milady.” Saizou bowed his head, ignoring the prickle at the back of his neck and putting it down to over-suspicion and his unwillingness to connect with his Nohrian in-laws. “Please accept my profuse apologies.”  
  
She patted his shoulder. “As I keep telling you and your brother both, there’s no need to be so formal. Though it does make me wonder, is Suzukaze equally as adventurous ...” she trailed off with a soft giggle.  
  
Saizou stopped in his tracks.  
  
She knew what they had done. What _he_ had started.  
  
He knew Suzukaze courting the Nohrian princess would be a bad idea. He should have put his foot down at their union. No, at Suzukaze’s mention that he was being invited to tea. _No_ , he should have discouraged Suzukaze from ever becoming a retainer so they would never have the opportunity to intimately know one another.  
  
If Suzukaze got the slightest hint of how he was using his skills—  
  
He was jumping to conclusions. Here, he needed to remain calm.  
  
“Princess Camilla,” he said carefully, forgetting her earlier remark. “You haven’t … _mentioned_ anything to Suzukaze … have you?”  
  
She stopped and turned, her brows delicately creased.  
  
“Honestly, Saizou.”  
  
It was eerie how she and Kamui, while unrelated, unknowingly shared some mannerisms.  
  
However, he could now breathe. He was going to have a firm word with Kamui on what she could and could definitely _not_ share with her sisters (even though she probably had no choice in the matter) (he couldn’t deny what they tried had been extremely pleasurable) (but no, it didn’t make it any less embarrassing that her sister – his sister-in-law, _his_ _brother’s wife_ – knew) (oh gods, that explained a great deal on why Kamui knew exactly what to do last night.)  
  
Saizou grappled with himself and eventually managed to come to some sort of understanding.  
  
“Excuse my ignorance—”  
  
“I wouldn’t be so crude as to mention it,” Camilla carried on with a flip of her hair. “I merely implied.”  
  
Saizou stood a statue, surrounded by the echoes of her laughter as she walked away.  
  
  



End file.
